Shur'tugal Konungr: Approaching Storm
by Airmage
Summary: Book Two: The Battle of Farthern Dur has left many wounded. Now, join the Riders and Dragons as they learn the ancient arts in the forests of Ellesmera, and follow the journey of the two sons of Garrow, for all have much to learn and achieve if the races of Alagaesia have any chance of surviving the reign of Galbatorix.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! chapter one of the second book in the Shur'tugal Konungr series is up! I'm so sorry for the delay! things have been going well before they got really busy! Please read, review, enjoy, and don't forget to vote on the poll!**

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Chapter One: Wounds

Ten days after the battle, and the bodies of the dead still littered outside the four gates to Farthen Dur. Eragon slowly walked, his tread heavy, among the bodies of the fallen, which include human, dwarf, and Urgal alike. The stench of decaying flesh filled his nostrils, and he did all he could to try and not empty his stomach of his breakfast. Slowly, members of the Varden and the dwarves worked their way through bodies, removing those of their kin from the Urgals.

It was obvious that the Varden hadn't experienced a battle this large before. There were a few people out among the dead, searching for loved ones that never came home. And when he had walked out among the people in the city this morning, he saw life devoid from their eyes, just like the bodies before him.

_The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living _**(1)**_,_ Eragon thought as he heard cries and wails drifting across the field. Sadly, he reflected, he had seen much worse. He had seen much more blood spill a hundred years ago then he will figured he would see altogether in this war; at least he hoped it would be that way. Saphira flew high above carcass covered battle ground, the beating of her wings was the only noise heard.

_Why do these things happen?_ Eragon asked Saphira. _Why must we suffer before we find happiness? How many more will die?_

There were a few minutes of silence. _Nothing comes without a price,_ she finally said. _In life, there are great joys…and great sorrows as well._

_But not everyone pays equally,_ Eragon added bitterly. _Some live off of hereditary riches while others work day and night, shedding blood and sweat for luxuries that may not always come._ Saphira remained quiet on that, sending him calming thoughts and a sense of reassurance. Eragon continued to walk, taking comfort in his dragon.

He stopped suddenly as pain started to creep up his back. Every since he woke up from his coma, his back tortured him with spontaneous attacks, paralyzing his entire body, and sometimes mind, in pain before he could move freely again. He gritted his teeth, hoping that there wouldn't be another attack right now.

_Little one?_ Saphira asked, concerned.

_I'm fine,_ he assured her, as the pain eased away as silently and slowly as it came. _It's fine, really. It's just…not a full episode._ He felt her concern and worry flow into him, but he brushed it aside, and sent her comforting thoughts. Her concern subsided, though he still felt her worry a little.

Eragon continued to walk among the dead, until his foot stepped on a small, rather sharp object. He looked down, and found a human molar standing upright in the dirt, neatly pressed into the earth from the weight of his foot. He picked it up, and tossed it between his hands. The tooth was covered in blood and dirt, and Eragon could only wonder how who the person had been, and whether he was still alive or dead…

A screech from the far side of the field caught his attention. He snapped his head in that direction to find a young girl kneeling at a body, screaming and shouting.

"No!" she tugged at her hair, falling over the body and then clutching the chest plate as if she was trying to reawaken the dead. "No! Eric, no! You can't be dead, you can't be! You promised that you'd stay with us. You promised. You don't break your promises, y-you don't!"

Grief tugged at Eragon's heart as he heard the girl beg for Eric to come back, beg for him to hug her, and beg for him to stay forever and ever. Without thinking twice, he leaped over the bodies as he made his way towards her, and knelt beside her, gently touching her shoulder.

The girl took it as an invitation to hug him. Surprised, Eragon put his arms around her, and rested his chin on her head. "He promised!" she cried into Eragon's shoulder. Eragon, not caring that blood and flesh from her hands were getting onto his shirt, held her even more tightly and gently rubbed her back, hushing her.

They stayed like that for a long as she cried, her hands clutching and her tears drenching his shirt. After a while, her sobs lessened, and she finally looked up at him.

She couldn't have been more shocked. "A-Argetlam?" she stammered, pulling back immediately, "I-I s-sorry, I-I d-didn't-"

"It's alright," he said gently. "I…understand."

Studying her more closely, he realized that he had seen her a few weeks before. She was the blue-eyed, brown haired girl who nearly cried when she didn't become a Dragon Rider. Now, however, her bright blue eyes were rimmed with red, and her brown hair was askew. She wore a simple brown dress.

Her hands tightened on his shirt, and her eyes threatened to spill even more tears. "H-he didn't c-come home a-again a-after the battle. N-no one w-would t-tell me and my b-brother what happened t-to him, b-because the three of us d-don't h-have any p-parents, and n-no one cares about y-you if you d-don't have any parents…" she trailed off, "I-I thought that h-he was h-helping out others, b-but…he's g-gone and…we're a-alone" she added more quietly, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's alright," he repeated. Her eyes snapped open, angry. "Your brother isn't dead."

She looked down, and said bitterly "He's in Angvard's Halls isn't he? That's where they say the dead go. How long will it be until I join him?" Her hands clenched tightly, and she seemed to be shaking with anger.

Her bitterness and anger alarmed him "No, listen." He lifted her chin so that she would look at him "The dead are not truly dead until they've been forgotten. Your brother, Eric, is still alive as long as you remember him and what he stood for," he told her as softly as he could.

She said nothing for a while, before nodding slowly, her anger fading away. Eragon let a silence ensure between them, before he stood up and helped her. "Come, I'll take you back to the city."

"Wait," she said. She knelt down and unbuckled her brother's belt from what was left of his waist. She pried the now rusty sword from his hand, and wiped whatever blood was left on her skirt.

"Here," Muttering in the Ancient Language, Eragon cleaned the sword, the belt, and their clothes.

"Thank-you," she said softly, thanking him for more than the cleaning; Eragon nodded in response, smiling. He held out his hand for her, and she took it, though timidly.

They walked together in silence, with Saphira flying above them. The girl would sniff once in a while, and tears would fall down her cheeks, but otherwise she was quiet. Eragon glanced up at Saphira.

"Would you like to meet her?" Eragon asked, starling the girl, who looked at him confused. "My dragon, would you like to meet her?"

The girl nodded slowly and questioned "How do you know that your dragon's a she?"

"She can talk."

"She can?" he chuckled at the girl's surprised. Before the Fall, it was common that everyone knew that dragons could talk. Afterwards however, he figured that they had gotten the expression otherwise from the mindless beasts that the Forsworns' dragons had been reduced to.

"Yes, she can."

The girl hesitated, and then nodded.

'_Saphira?'_ Eragon asked his dragon. Though she felt slightly insulted by the girl's shocked expression at her ability to talk, Saphira consented. Eragon led the girl to the front of the Northern Gates of Tronjheim, where his beautiful blue dragon landed. The girl gasped, and hid behind Eragon.

He laughed "Go ahead, she won't bite, unless you've made her very mad." Slowly and cautiously, the girl put down her brother's belt, and walked toward Saphira, who laid her head on the ground so that the girl could reach it. The girl stretched out a trembling hand, and placed it on her snout. As she petted her snout, she grew more confident, even wrapping her arms around the base of Saphira's neck and leaning against her.

"I feel her breathe," the girl whispered. "Can you feel her breathe?"

"Every second, night and day," Eragon replied, rubbing Saphira on the snout.

The girl closed her eyes, and her faced relaxed. "I've always wanted to be a Dragon Rider," the girl muttered "All the power, and the glory."

Eragon frowned "To be a Dragon Rider is not all about the power or the glory," he gently chastised "It's to take responsibility for the people, to help them and be their guardian. It's to make sure that disasters won't ever happen again."

The girl let go of Saphira, and looked up at Eragon, tears in her eyes "But you didn't stop Galbatorix," she whispered. Immediately, guilt filled Eragon. True, the Riders did nothing. They had been basking in their power, and were too arrogant to think that any one of them would turn as evil and against their Order.

"I know," he replied softly "I'm sorry."

The girl let go of Saphira, and walked over to her brother's belt. "I have to go now," she said softly, picking up her brother's belt. "Good-bye, Argetlam," she started walking towards the North Gate.

"Wait!" Eragon called out. The girl stopped, and turned to face him, confused "What's your name, child?"

Her eyes widened in surprise before she answered "Cecilia." She took a deep breath, as if drawing up all her courage, and asked "What's your name, Argetlam?"

Eragon smiled gently at her "My name is Eragon, Cecilia," he told her.

Cecilia nodded thoughtfully, before turning towards Saphira "Um…what's your name."

Saphira blinked once. _'My name is Saphira, hatchling._'

Cecilia gasped as she felt Saphira speak. Eragon laughed, softly.

'_We must go, little one,'_ Saphira switched toward Eragon. '_Thorn contacted me while you were speaking to the hatchling. Ahjihad has called for a meeting.'_

'_Alright then,' _Eragon nodded once at Cecilia, before turning and took a running start as he jumped onto Saphira, first landing on her foreleg, and then grabbing the straps of the saddle and swinging himself on her. His smile grew wider as he heard Cecilia gasp. Eragon raised his hand in farewell before Saphira launched herself into the air.

Saphira flew higher and higher until Cecilia and the North Gate were no larger than the queen of ants and an ant side by side. She took one of the caves high above ground, which led to the Dragon holds.

'_Why are we going to the Dragon holds?'_ Eragon asked.

'_Ahjihad had requested this meeting away from the eyes and ears of anyone,'_ Saphira explained. '_He wishes to discuss the matter of the Twins.'_

'_Ah, any word from Brom?"_ He lit a small ball of fire and sent it ahead of them in the tunnel, giving Saphira enough light to maneuver through the long, dark tunnel.

'_None'_

'_I see. Who else will be there?'_

'_Everyone,' _she flew out of the tunnel, and out into the Dragon hold.

They landed in a large cave, where several others were there as well: Arya, Murtagh, Firen, Thorn, Brom, Ahjihad, Jömundur, and even King Hrothgar and Orik. Murtagh and Thorn had been granted permission to stay a little longer by the dwarven council, if only that the dwarves refused to remain in debt to one who had saved thousands of their own, and their king as well.

As Eragon got off of Saphira, he noticed a small door in the far corner. Behind the door, he knew, was a mechanism that allows non-riders, or even riders, to climb up to the holds.

"Eragon," Ahjihad greeted as the blue rider approached the cluster of important people.

"Ahjihad," Eragon returned the greeting. "Sorry I was late. I was…out on the battle field."

The atmosphere, already tense before, now fell into a gloom. "Ah yes," Ahjihad said, appearing to be troubled. "The…clean-up is taking far longer than I thought it would. But that is a matter for another time. Right now, I wish to discuss the matter of the Twins and the future of the Varden and the Fate of Alagaesia."

Murtagh smiled humorlessly "Ah, the Fate of Alagaesia; aren't we always discussing that?"

Ahjihad ignored him "For a long time, I have suspected the Twins are trying to pass information of the Varden to Galbatorix. My suspicions only proved to be true at the battle. Neither of them were where they were supposed to be, and as you know, members of the Du Vrangr Gata and the dwarf magicians found them protecting the Urgals, and even sabotaging our ranks. With their combined might, they managed to stop them, and the Twins ran." Eragon nodded, having been told all of this just a few hours after he had woken up.

"The point," Brom interjected "Is that I was sent to find them. I couldn't, but there still remains the risk of the Varden and the dwarves being attacked. While the dwarves are being moved to the upper levels of Farthen Dur, the Varden will be moved farther towards Surda. There's an empty dwarf dwelling where the Varden can live comfortably. It belongs to no Clan, so there shouldn't be a problem."

"The fields around are fertile as well," Hrothgar added "If there are any farmers, then they can farm enough food for the Varden. They are even close to Surda, so King Orin may help them if necessary."

"Orin will be openly supporting the Varden?" Murtagh asked.

"Not at first, but," Ahjihad said "we can only hope that he will in the future."

Eragon nodded "Very well then. When will the Varden be moving?"

"I plan on letting them leave a week after the Riders and Dragons leave for Ellesmera," Ahjihad replied. "And from what Eragon has told us about his discussion with Durza, then we may have five years to prepare ourselves for the war."

"Excuse me, Lord Ahjihad," Orik said. Everyone turned to face him, and the dwarf blinked once before he continued "But wouldn't the Varden get comfortable during those five years? Would they still want to fight?"

There was a moment of silence until Arya answered "No." All attention was turned to her. "They have lost too many people in the battle for them to so easily forget. And they have lost too many people for the past hundred years to forget. No; this battle has scarred them. They will not forget."

"I agree," Eragon said, his thoughts drifting back to Cecilia and her brother's belt. He doubted that it would be the last time he's seen her.

"And in those five years, we can prepare ourselves, train the troops so they can be ready," Brom added.

"And Galbatorix will be doing the same," King Hrothgar commented. The three riders and Brom glanced at each other, before Eragon replied.

"Let's take a chance in the fact that he may not be so willing to train his troops," Eragon said.

"He's strong, but his arrogance will prove to be fatal to him," Murtagh added. "He may think that since he has so much power, there will be no need to train his troops."

"His power may be stronger than ours," Arya added "But we will train to be more skillful. Even power must bow down to wisdom."

"Indeed," Eragon agreed, recognizing that line from a poem he had once read long ago.

"Then we shall use the five years to our advantage," Brom concluded. There were several voices of agreements at this.

"If that is all," King Hrothgar said "Then I must take my leave. I have other duties to attend to."

"Of course," Ahjihad agreed. He nodded towards the others. As Eragon walked over to Saphira, he caught Arya's eye. For a moment, he saw sadness, a deep sense of loss that cut through pain, but the look in her eye vanished. He nodded at her, and she returned it. They both got up on their respective dragons, and flew out of the cave.

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**(1) I think is this the first line on Eldest. At any case, I don't claim this line to be mine. It's purely CP's**


	2. Journey

**And chapter two is up! sorry for the long delay; work and other things are keeping me busy. But now that summer's coming (i actually feel like doing things during the summer) i hope i'll be able to update faster. Anyway, please enjoy! in this book, i'm planning on making it more of Aiden's POV, as well as Roran's and Garrow's; at least the ideas i have in my mind are mostly their POV.**

**Since i took so long, i'll give you guys a tidbit or two! First off, Garrow will reunite with Aiden! the poll's now closed, thank-you for all who voted! Next, Cecilia and Araum will come in later on. They will be important. Hmm...that's all i can think of at the top of my head...oh and also, for the people who died in the books, some may die in this series, just at different circumstances.**

**I'm also open to your opinions and ideas; I may not necessarily add them in this story, but they may give me other ideas.**

******So please R&R!**

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Chapter Two: Journey

Eragon looked over at his young cousin, who was nervous. He didn't blame the poor boy. It had been several days since he last saw with both of his eyes, and he had only gotten used to looking through his right eye.

"Ready?" Eragon asked. Aiden nodded, looking down. Norfavrell and Jarsha, as well as their dragons and Saphira, all stood close by the young boy.

Eragon leaned over, and squeezed his shoulder. "There will be scarring," he said "But we can fix that if you want." Again, Aiden nodded.

"Alright, then," Eragon gingerly undid the wrappings of the bandage. Almost immediately, Jarsha and Norfavrell went to stand by Aiden's side. He smiled. Ever since the Battle, the three boys and their dragons grew closer and closer together.

He let the last of the bandages fall to the ground, and inspected the handiwork of the Riders and Brom. The longer he looked at them, the more dismayed he became.

_Little one,_ Saphira said gently, sensing his distress.

_It's bad Saphira; it's very bad._

A large scar ran over the left side of his face, and over his eyelid. Parts of his skin were missing on his cheek, leaving small, random indents in his cheek. The scar was rough, and bright red, as if it was still fresh.

"Well?" Aiden asked in a small voice, no doubt aware of the silence. Both of his eyes were closed.

"Um…" Norfavrell started.

"It's…" Jarsha tried to help, shifting from one foot to the other.

"It's still not finished healing," Eragon said. Thinking for a few minutes, he chanted, taking away the redness of the scar, as well as adding a bit of skin to the missing parts. Eragon took his cousin's hand in his, letting the younger boy squeeze it to relieve the pain.

After he finished the healing spell, he once again inspected the work done on it. The scar was now white, though slightly pink, but still very rough. There were still a few dents in the skin Whatever the Ra'Zac had put on those scars had made it difficult for them to re-grow the skin, though maybe it would be easier for a few elves who had much more experience. Aiden slowly opened his eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the rather low light source.

"Can you see out of your left eye?" Eragon asked Aiden, who nodded.

"It's not bad," Aiden started "But it's all blurry."

Eragon tightened his lips, but nodded; that was to be expected. "We'll find a healer in Ellesmera when we get there, Aiden, I promise."

Jarsha, who had been slightly fidgeting the whole time, burst out "And we're going there today!"

Eragon smiled at his young apprentice "Yes, we are." All three boys grinned at each other. However, Aiden's smile faltered as he looked back at Eragon and Saphira, who had lowered her head so that it was level with her rider.

"Can I have a mirror?" Aiden asked. Eragon handed him the mirror Nasuada had given him before. As Aiden peered into his own reflection, the other boys squeezed their heads against his. Eragon studied his cousin's face as he looked into his own reflection. The young boy was dismayed, but he set his mouth in a thin line, as if he knew that nothing more can be done.

"It's…not as bad as it was, I guess," Aiden said. "But, it's still," as he struggled to find the right words, Eragon placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it.

"I know," Eragon said softly, "And I'm sorry."

Determination filled the boy's eyes "Don't be. It's not your fault," he said rather hotly, "Like everyone keeps saying."

Eragon grinned at that, though he couldn't help feel a little irritated that everyone keeps reminding him "Like what everyone keeps saying," he repeated. "And speaking of everyone, let's go now, they'll be wondering where we are."

They were in one of the tunnels that led to the lake of the river Az Ragni, having started their journey a few days earlier. Eragon and Saphira had taken aside the young apprentices (just Aiden at first, but the others wanted to come) into one of the nearby tunnels. The only light source there was a white orb created by Eragon.

The orb moved ahead of them as Eragon commanded it to when they started walking. Only the sound of Saphira's claws clicking against the stone ground and the quiet chatter of the boys.

They arrived at the clearing a few minutes later. It was still early evening, but the sun had disappeared behind the mountains hours ago, so the only light source was the small cluster of orbs above the gathered group. All the Riders and Dragons, who were to take the journey, were gathered there, even Brom and Orik, who was sent as an envoy by Hrothgar. No one else was there, as they were all preparing for the departure of the Varden. And, Eragon suspected, Hrothgar may still hold a grudge against the Riders, so he didn't protest or send any guards when Eragon bade him farewell. The way the dwarf king had acted around him when they stopping for a quick chat, which didn't often happen, made him suspicious.

The said dwarf whistled "Not bad boy," he commented on Aiden's scar "With all your training and a few years, you'll have every girl out there swooning after you."

Aiden's face turned nearly as red as Thorn's, to which Murtagh had commented on, making him turned even redder as his two friends laughed.

"Let's be off then," Brom said, smiling at his young nephew.

The riders had gotten onto two separate 'rafts', if calling them such would give them justice. They were more like very large pieces of wood put together, slightly rising at the sides and with a small hut in the middle, where they would store their belongings.

Brom and Orik got onto one raft with Ivird, Nasuada, Vanir, and Liotha, while the rest of the riders and Aiden climbed onto the second raft. The dragons would swim alongside them, including Eveth, who had grown immensely along with the other young dragons. Eragon grabbed a paddle on one side of the raft, as Murtagh did for the other. In unison, they gently pushed off the shore, and headed down the lake and into the river.

No one spoke, letting the sounds of nature fill the silence as well as the sounds of the paddles in the water. Noises of the various, strange beasts that inhabited the mountains came from the forests once they had reached the river. Eragon immediately sent the boys off to bed only a few hours later, much to their dismay.

And no one else said anything, save for the quiet chatter of Brom and Orik on the other raft. Arya was writing in a journal she had brought with her in a knapsack. The other riders were either rowing the boat or presumably speaking to their dragons. All the dragons save for the youngest ones who occasionally rested on the rafts, were flying overhead.

And no one spoke either when they stopped for the night along the shore, still in the mountains. The two tents were sent up for those who didn't have a dragon and the apprentices whose dragons were too small to cover them for the night. Eragon, Murtagh, and Brom carefully carried the apprentices into their own tent. But before Eragon left, he looked back at his cousin, who looked so innocent and young, save for the scar that ran along his face.

_The war scars everyone, Saphira_, Eragon thought to his dragon, who hummed in response. He walked out of the tent, and over to Saphira, who immediately wrapped herself around her rider. Eragon rubbed the ridge just over her large, blue eye, which stared back at him. He mind trailed back to Garrow, who had been furious when he learned about what had happened to Aiden, and had take several hours to calm him down and for everyone (as in Brom, and Murtagh) to tell him-and remind Eragon much to his annoyance-that it was in no way Eragon's fault.

_I hope Garrow will be alright,_ Eragon told Saphira.

_He's a stubborn man, little one. It will take a lot to take down any one of your family members,_ Saphira replied gently.

"Hmm," Eragon hummed, drifting into his waking dreams.

If dragons could smile softly, like a mother gazing fondly at her child, then Saphira would have given that same smile. Instead, in a soft voice, one she only reserved for Eragon, she said _Good night, little one._

_I love you, Saphira._

_And I you, little one; and I you._

(Garrow POV)

When he had been younger, Garrow had feared losing his dragon. And at the Battle of the Burning Plains, he lost her, he lost Eldora. For days, years afterwards, he was mad with grief. But there was nothing he could do save for traveling the land with hopeless anger. Occasionally, he would come in contact with Brom and aid the Varden. But he would not formally join. No, he couldn't, for reasons he never really understood himself.

But then, everything changed when he met Marian.

She was beautiful, and obviously far younger than him. He worked as a farmhand on her father's farm, which he now owns. As a year had passed, they fell in love. It was not the same typed of love he had for Eldora; no, the loss of a dragon can never be replaced. But it was love nevertheless, and it greatly healed his wounds, though not fully.

It was hard to get the approval of her father, and even harder the village. But in the end, he proved himself. And as the years went by, he only loved her more. When she gave birth to Roran, he had never been happier. And when Aiden was born years later, he thought he would burst with pride. He had loved his sons dearly, often being too selfish in anything regarding them.

When Eragon wanted Aiden to leave with him, every fiber of his body and mind protested. But the night before, he had thought it over. Aiden had potential, which he knew that the time of his birth. But he was afraid. What if Galbatorix took him away just as he took away Eldora? But deep down, he knew that Eragon and several others would train him to reach his potential, maybe even more. So he let his son go.

Roran had left earlier, yes, but Garrow knew that he would come back. With Aiden, he wasn't so sure. All he could do was hope. He had nearly lost it when he saw his son with the bandages on his face, but let Brom and Murtagh (mostly Brom as his other nephew was being an ass as always) convince him that it was alright.

And so Garrow waited.

He waited for Roran to come back, for the war to end, for his youngest son to come home. He waited for himself to wake-up, to let himself believe that it was all a dream, and what he had endured for the past decades was all a dream. He couldn't remember much of what happened in the last hundred years anyway.

After his chores were done (including recalling the skills he had learned a long time ago) he would wait on the back porch, which faced east. He would wait with his Rider's sword across his lap; its name was Arucane in the Ancient Language or endless fire in the common tongue. It was a deep orange, like the flames of the deep sunset or early sunrise.

And one day, while he was waiting, with his sword on his lap, he spotted Roran coming up the road, arriving far too early for someone who was working at the Miller's. He was too far away for a normal human to see, so Garrow walked back into the house, putting away his sword in a chest under his bed, where several other objects of importance were hidden in as well. He made a cup of coffee, and went back outside, this time with Roran much closer than before.

He waited on the porch, savoring every moment of his son's journey that led him closer to home. He waited, joy and curiousness in his mind, as his eldest child came back; at least he knew that one of his children will be safe.

He leaned back on the chair he was sitting in, and waited.

(Roran POV)

Roran could see his father sitting out on the porch with a mug in hand, and frowned slightly to himself. It was highly unusual for Garrow to sitting on the porch. He was usually busy with one thing or another.

He studied his father as he came closer. He was rather thin, thinner then Roran, and his hair and beard were grey and brown. His face was old, as Roran always remembered it to be. Dimly, he recalled that when he was younger, he often wondered if Garrow was his father or really his grandfather.

"You're back," Garrow stated, taking a sip out of his mug while he stared at Roran. Roran nodded, slightly unnerved by the slight difference in his father. Garrow continued "Go on then. I'll stay out here for a few minutes."

Roran entered the house, and frowned at the silence. Normally, Aiden would have been in the kitchen, cooking food, or even just hanging around, cleaning the house. His younger brother was odd, he knew for sure, and he feared that his departure may have upset him. He didn't see Eragon or Murtagh either, come to think of it.

He came back outside, and leaned against the railing "Where's Aiden?"

"He left."

Roran frowned "With who?"

"Eragon and Murtagh"

Roran scowled at that. While his two 'cousins' seemed nice enough, and he did like them, he couldn't help but think that there was something…different about them. "You sent him off with two complete strangers?"

"They're your cousins, Roran, not complete strangers." Garrow leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

"So they say. But how do you know they're not lying?"

"They did tell us."

"But they could be lying!" Roran protested.

"They're not, Roran. Those two are similar enough to us that they can't be."

Still, Roran wanted to argue. He may not have been the brother that he wanted to be to Aiden, but the younger boy still looked up to him, and, in a way, worshiped him. The past few weeks spent at the Miller's made him realize that he could have been a much better brother, especially when he observed how one of the other workers always defended his brother, who was dumb-witted but strong. The way the older brother defended his younger made him embarrassed of the way he had been acting to Aiden around the presence of the other boys whenever they went to the village.

"Why are you here early?" Garrow asked.

Roran, for the moment, brushed away his concerns and troubles and answered "The mill burned down. No one really knows why."

Garrow nodded "You'll have to find other work then, if you want to convince Sloan to marry Katrina to you."

Roran shook his head and grinned, all thoughts of worry leaving him as he unhooked the bag of money from his belt, and handed it to his father. Garrow weighed it in his hands, surprised at the weight of it. "I had saved the Miller's grandson from being burned alive in the mill. So the Miller and his son gave me money in thanks."

Garrow smiled; a rather rare action for his father, "When will you be asking her then?"

"Soon," Roran replied "Maybe after the field's been planted."

"I'm proud of you, Roran," Garrow said softly, and hugged his son. Roran returned it. "You have my blessings, and you always will. Go and rest now. You had a long journey."

And as Roran walked through his house, he didn't ponder on the strange loneliness of it. He went immediately to the room where he and Aiden had shared. And as he lay down on the bed, images of a certain laughing redhead and the scent of her hair conquered his mind, and filled his dreams.

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**So what do you guys think? R&R!**


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